


Reverie

by Chordewa



Category: Naruto
Genre: Asphyxiation, Bondage, Dubious Consent, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Tumblr: hashimadaminibang, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-15
Updated: 2015-08-15
Packaged: 2018-04-14 21:41:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 777
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4581126
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chordewa/pseuds/Chordewa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Madara snares Hashirama in his genjutsu. Set during 4th shinobi war. PWP.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Reverie

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Day 2 of the hashimadaminibang for the prompt Reality/Illusions. I'm not used to writing porn, but hopefully I didn't do too badly.
> 
> 20/11/15: Edited.

Madara thinks he likes Hashirama this way, naked and bound and full of fury. Not on his own behalf no, not because of what Madara is doing to him. That anger is all because Madara got in his way and stopped him from rushing off to save those brats from Obito.

It's a little insulting, if he's honest.

" _Madara_ ," Hashirama snarls. It's a struggle for him to get the words out with a thick vine wrapped around his throat, but he manages all the same. "Release the genjutsu!"

"Release it yourself," Madara replies, earning a dark glare in response. Hashirama is unfamiliar with fighting against the Rinnegan, which is what enabled Madara to ensnare him in the first place. Here in the illusion they are men of flesh and blood once more. There's a flush spreading over Hashirama's face and chest as the vines tighten, one rubbing teasingly against his cock. He's already erect.

"Madara, this is hardly the time to—" Hashirama starts to protest, panting.

"No time is passing," Madara replies, watching Hashirama's straining form. There's power contained in every tense line and corded muscle of that body, more power than his arching back and shallowly twitching hips could ever suggest. "I'm the one on a schedule here, not you." Fifteen minutes until the tree blooms, and he still has some things to take care of before then. "I find myself feeling curious – you did this to me countless times, didn't you?"

Leafy tendrils curl around his dick, brushing over the soft red head. "I haven't forgotten." Hashirama's voice is strangled; he's trying not to moan, he's trying to reprimand Madara through self-restraint.

How boring of him.

No hand seal is needed. The vines binding Hashirama's legs spread them wide. The Mokuton grows thicker – _harder_. His eyes widen as he feels the rounded tip touch his entrance. Hashirama hisses as the branch penetrates him dry, the skin around his eyes tightening at the burning pain that must be shooting up his spine right now. Sensation is all that's real in a genjutsu. The Mokuton fucks Hashirama with an ease that would be unlikely in reality, moving in and out and curling inside him at a flick of Madara's fingers. Hashirama writhes under the ministrations of his own jutsu, his body slick with sweat and precome beading wetly at the head of his cock. His mouth falls open as he gasps for breath that the crushing hold on his throat won't allow him.

Impatient, Madara goes to him and straddles his hips. His own clothes are gone with a thought, drifting from his body like wisps of smoke. He leans down and kisses Hashirama's shoulder, cock pressed tight between their bodies. His hips jerk against Hashirama's abdomen, seeking friction. Hashirama can't die here unless he wishes it, but he loosens the vines on his throat a little, so he can kiss him properly. Their mouths meet and it's all rough and full of teeth; Hashirama bites his tongue and his mouth fills with blood. Madara pulls back enough to crash their foreheads together. Dizzy, he sucks Hashirama's lip between his own before moving away to press bites and kisses to his neck.

Hashirama cries out and arches his back beneath him as the Mokuton thrusts in particularly hard. He's looking at Madara with a glazed expression, his cock rigid against his arse. Madara sits up, reaches behind himself to take him in hand and sinks down onto him, sheathing him inside with several rocks of his hips. They both moan at the sensation, at the feeling of being joined again after so long apart. Madara pants against his skin. He rakes his nails down Hashirama's chest, fire chakra at his fingers burning red tracks over his nipples.

Hashirama gasps and strains against his bonds to buck up into him. Madara moans low in his throat, moving faster now, taking him in deep. It's strange to have Hashirama so passive beneath him, and if they hadn't fought in the real world before he doesn't think he would've found this that exciting at all.

It's as if Hashirama is reading his mind. "Madara, let me _move_."

Madara doesn't hesitate to comply, and Hashirama drags him down by the hair for another kiss, thrusting into him erratically. His breath keeps hitching in the way that means he's close now, and the heat burning low in the pit of his stomach lets Madara know he's nearly there too. Soon they will go back to being enemies: Hashirama will try to thwart his plans, and he will crush him.

But for this short time outside of time, they can enjoy this illusion.


End file.
